Toxic
by Lord Kristine
Summary: Sarah talks about her relationship with Ian.
It was exactly the kind of cafe you'd see in a movie. Long bar, populated tables, wide windows that gave the whole place a very bright color scheme . . . even the people who passed the benches by said window seemed to be insignificant extras, wearing grey suits and carrying briefcases, the contents of which would never be known to anyone, not that they would have cared to find out. The city noise and chatter in the bistro was perfect white noise, almost as if the volume had been set just loud enough to give the illusion of realism, but quiet enough that no specific noise could be called unique, as it would distract from whatever conversation was being focused on by the nonexistent director. All in all, it was not the kind of place that Sarah Harding was used to frequenting.

A familiar face made Sarah's heart settle. It was funny how friendship made people blind to unfamiliar terrain. It was like that with anything, she supposed: emotions were far more powerful than circumstance. That was a good thing. Right now, Sarah really needed a friend.

"Alright, no bullshit," the newcomer asserted, "We both know why we're here, so let's cut to the chase without beating around the bush."

Sarah smiled.

"That's the plan. You know I'm direct."

"Too direct, sometimes."

"So I'm told."

"Right. What's up with Ian?"

Sarah took a shaky breath.

"Well, we're still together, and nothing serious has happened . . . Well, not really. I mean, we've had a couple of fights recently, but it's more a general sense of . . . I don't know, exactly."

Her friend nodded, putting the tops of her hands under strain as her arms struggled to support them in their boxlike position.

"Start at the beginning, honey. We'll figure this out."

Sarah inhaled deeply.

"Okay . . . Our relationship confuses me. I know it's weird to say, because I'm usually so laissez-faire, but sometimes, I just can't get a read on him. One minute, we're discussing common interests, and the next, he's criticizing me about random shit."

"What kind of shit?"

Sarah shrugged.

"I don't know. Things I do. I'm not gonna say he's being unreasonable, because I can see the logic behind his remarks . . ."

"Like what?"

"Well, I go overboard with my jokes. You know how excitable I can get. Sometimes, I just can't keep my mouth shut."

Her friend scoffed.

"Oh, please! Like Ian's any better!"

Sarah chuckled.

"Yeah, I thought the same thing too. He's gone too far, sometimes. I know I'm not usually serious, and that can be off-putting, but when I go too far, I'm just stupid. When _he_ goes too far, he can be mean. Really mean. His sense of humor is based around putting others down, after all . . ."

"Including you?"

Sarah's eyes drifted to the side uncomfortably.

"Sometimes."

"Does that upset you?"

Sarah gulped.

"You know, I've always looked down on people who say that others should be silenced because something they said hurt their feelings, and I would never tell him to stop, but . . . Look, even if I don't want something to affect my sentiments, there will always be a part of me that gets hurt."

Her friend nodded.

"I know, sweetie, I know. You can't ignore your emotions. Have you told him about this?"

"Once. I told him everything that was on my mind, and I was worried that he'd be angry . . . I know how pathetic that sounds. Anyway, he reacted fairly well. He admitted that he's been under a lot of stress lately. It made me feel better. But he's continued to criticize me."

"About?"

"Just stupid things I do. It's like he's keeping me on a leash. I feel like I can never truly be myself when I'm around him."

"Why not?"

Sarah gave a bitter laugh.

"You know I hate to throw around the term 'free spirit', but . . ."

"So he wants you to restrain yourself?"

"In some aspects of my personality, yes. I'm just wondering about his motivation. Is he doing this because he wants me to be at my best, or because being myself with no limits will make him look bad by association? I really don't know."

"Well, it's not like he has the greatest reputation, with all of his ranting and raving about dinosaurs . . ."

"That's not his fault. He's just trying to be truthful. The public is getting to him, you know. He's been talking about releasing a new statement that minimizes his claims."

"That's sad."

"I know. He's been through a lot, which is why I hate to confront him, but at the same time . . ."

She took an unsteady breath and tipped the salt shaker over with her index finger.

"Do you ever feel like you don't know how much you should listen to your gut?" she whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"As much as I want to tell Ian that he's being hurtful to me, I can't forget the fact that compared to him, I'm a nobody."

Her friend placed her hand over Sarah's wrists.

"Oh, honey, don't say that. What about all the activism you've done?"

"Activism?" Sarah scoffed, "What's activism compared to a real job? Even my studies on animal behavior mean nothing next to . . . math."

Her friend clicked her tongue.

"Don't be so critical of yourself."

"I _have_ to be. I don't want to be a pompous ass. I mean, how many people actually read my work?"

"Ian does, right?"

"He said so, and he mentioned things from my papers that he only could have discovered by digging deep, but I still feel like I can't believe him. I have every reason to trust that he's telling the truth, but-"

"You lack the confidence to admit that your work might have merit."

Sarah closed her eyes.

"I like the stuff I write. I know it's not perfect, but I like it. Ian says he does too, but sometimes, I wonder if he's just using me to get some sort of benefit. Not sure what he'd get from me, though."

"I can think of a couple things . . ."

Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Right. Anyway, I'm starting to wonder if this whole relationship is toxic. I mean, it swings between being really good and really bad . . . for me, at least. I'm always nervous around him."

"If you think something is wrong with your relationship, you're probably right."

"I know, but-"

"You love him."

"Yes."

"Is it worth it? The relationship, I mean?"

Sarah paused. She shifted to the side, then shook her head.

"I don't know. I really don't know."

"If you don't know-"

"It's probably not a good sign. I'm well aware."

She exhaled slowly and bit her lip.

"You know, I don't usually trust things I find on the Internet, but I looked up a list of symptoms for toxic relationships, and every single one applied to my own. And then there's the fact that I looked it up in the first place . . ."

"So dump him."

Sarah looked down.

"As pathetic as it sounds, I'm unable to. I mean, I like him. We get along. Less so, lately, but still . . . And there's another catch. Once Ian started rambling about living dinosaurs, he made a lot of enemies. By taking his side, so did I. Some of the people who hate him are my friends . . . _were_ my friends. I've said enough behind their backs that if they ever found out, they'd hate me forever. I did it to make Ian feel better, because I thought I was committing to something worthwhile."

Sarah bunched up her hair, dragging her palm up the side of her head.

"And now that I've committed to him, I've burned so many bridges . . . if this ends, I have nowhere to go. Even though he's made enemies, he still has connections to fall back on, but I'm all alone . . ."

"No one's alone."

Tears began to sting at Sarah's eyes.

"The scientific community is my life. There aren't many of us, so rifts like this matter. I'm going to lose my livelihood, my passion-"

"But your integrity is more important."

Sarah winced.

"What integrity? If you want to know the truth, I had a crisis, recently, and went to one of Ian's enemies for help."

"Before Ian?"

"He wasn't around at the time. Anyway, I thought this man was crazy, and he's said some questionable shit, but . . . he listened to me. Even though I betrayed him for Ian, he still trusted me. And you know what? I even told him that I'd been talking behind his back. He said it was okay. He said people have reasons for doing the things they do. He's right. I become a different person in each relationship, and if everything I'd ever said was made public to each side, I'd be hated by everyone. I know this is true for most people, but I have to wonder if I'm being terrible. I mean, this man was crazy, and Ian is crazy, and I'm certainly crazy, but that doesn't make it right for us to go talking behind each other's backs like this. But we do it anyway. And we'll never stop. We'll always change ourselves for the people we're with so that we can win their affection. Or maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm a pathetic woman who needs love and doesn't know how to get it. I'm afraid to be myself, not just around Ian, but around everyone. I'm a bad person. Not bad like murderers or criminals, but still bad. In a way, I'm worse than those people, because I know what I'm doing is wrong, and I keep doing it. At least psychopaths can't comprehend that there's a valid reason to change their practices. I have the power to control myself, but I choose to continue my bad habits. And maybe Ian's been hard on me for doing stupid shit, but the fact remains that this is primarily _my_ fault, not his. And I'll never change. In the end, I'm glad that Ian makes me feel like shit, because that's what I am. I'm shit that tries to pass itself off as ordinary dirt."

There was a long silence. Sarah's friend stood up.

"It sounds like you've made up your mind. I don't know whether you're right or wrong, but it doesn't make a difference. This kind of truth is a matter of perception, so if you perceive yourself as shit, that's what you are. You can stay with Ian, or you can dump him, but you should know that your decision will effectively change who you are."

Sarah stared forward with blank eyes.

"I can't dump him. We have commitments. After those-"

"There will be more. More commitments, more disappointments."

"Probably."

Her friend leaned close. Her eyes were like stone.

"This isn't about Ian, Sarah. This is about you. Don't forget it."

"I should tell him."

"Will you?"

"If I do, it'll end up being passive-aggressively. It may slip into my writing, my dialogue, my character-"

"You're an honest person. When an honest person is afraid to tell the truth, something is deeply wrong. Goodbye, Sarah."

"Goodbye."

Once again, she was alone. It was her own fault, of course, but she didn't know whether she should be admitting that to herself. In any case, nothing was about to change.


End file.
